


I'm Staring at the Wreckage, Trying to make it Okay

by terramous



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Gen, Reggie Needs a Hug (Julie and The Phantoms), Sickfic, Whump, also a lil mention or two of homophobia, warnings for reggie and alex's parents content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terramous/pseuds/terramous
Summary: “Yeah?” Reggie asked, still writing. He assumed Alex needed more help, and he was always happy to give it. Until a softsplatbroke his focus. There was a small drop of blood on his paper, quickly followed by a second.“Your nose is bleeding.”“I can see that.”👻Reggie learns a little too late in the day that asking for help isn't a bad thing
Relationships: Alex & Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Luke Patterson & Reggie
Comments: 17
Kudos: 284





	I'm Staring at the Wreckage, Trying to make it Okay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ksmalltalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ksmalltalk/gifts).



> for my darling Kim's birthday!! i'm posting this a day late but i hope the soft moments between the boy makes it worth it!!!
> 
> this is entirely self-indulgent sickfic time + more self-indulgent the boys just being awkward dumb teens time

Reggie watched the sunrise with tired eyes and heavy limbs. He'd been awake for a few hours now and resigned himself to sitting with his back pressed to the wall and his knees tucked up to his chin as he stared out the window. 

It was never surprising when he heard yelling, but it usually didn't start so early. 

He could guess that either of them had gotten up during the night and that little shift had set the other off. Like the dying spark of a discarded cigarette on dry grass, that tiny and seemingly insignificant flame became a raging bushfire.

As much as he was used to the fighting, the sound of something smashing still made him flinch. 

He didn't know why they bothered to stay together anymore.

That's a lie. He did know. It was mostly for the image, at least for his mother, she didn't want to be the first woman in her family and the only one in her friend group to get a divorce. It was considered shameful even though it was a much better alternative to the screaming matches that were getting violent more frequently as of late. It was only a matter of time.

Reggie assumed his dad just liked having the power. 

His little brother was the only one who had never been on the receiving end of his father's wrath. David, Reggie’s older brother, had tried to break up their fights many times. He stopped after their father broke his wrist.

Just last week, Reggie had a vase smashed over his head. He hadn't been able to wash his hair for days, Alex picked the shards glass out while Luke and Bobby quietly fumed.

As the light of dawn illuminated Reggie’s bedroom, he was brought to the awareness of an aching behind his eyes.

He'd barely been able to get to sleep the night before, stuck in a vicious cycle of sweating and shivering to find rest. 

The glowing numbers on Reggie’s alarm clock told him he'd have to get up soon. He couldn't keep pretending to be asleep. 

Honestly, he felt like crawling into his bed and never reemerging. The past week had been so long and nearly impossible to get through. His parents’ fights started earlier and continued until even later. Reggie could steal maybe an hour or two of sleep before the screaming kicked up again.

He pretended not to notice the growing concern of his bandmates. The tension was palpable, especially after Reggie had crashed on the couch in the studio the other day and slept with his head buried in Bobby’s lap. They didn’t practice that day, but none of them were angry, the worry rolling off them in waves.

But Reggie had to be okay. He couldn’t be a burden to them.

👻

Reggie rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, willing his growing headache to subside so he could focus. At this point, everything his teacher said was gibberish that was almost entirely drowned out by Alex tapping his pen against the desk. Reggie vaguely recognised the rhythm, they had only been playing that song last night, well into the late hours. 

Bobby had walked Reggie back to his house under the cover of stars and even went as far as to help lift Reggie into one of the first floor windows so he didn’t have to walk past his parents’ room on his way to his own bedroom. 

If Reggie focused hard enough he could probably hear the bass part of the song. _Now or Never,_ it was Luke’s latest masterpiece, he’d leapt over the coffee table, shoving the lyrics in Reggie’s face yesterday, excitedly gabbering about how great it was going to be as a final in their setlist. 

Reggie’s heart panged. He missed Luke.

Sure, they had band practice almost every day, and Reggie was in the studio with Luke for hours on end, but he still hadn’t adjusted to not seeing the bundle of energy at school. 

After running away from home, Luke had stopped going to school, he went the first day after the fight but upon seeing his mother’s car outside the front office, he hadn’t stepped foot within a block of the school since.

He didn’t even have Bobby’s quiet but comforting companionship. He’d caught some jerks making fun of Alex in the locker room, throwing around a colourful array of slurs, and before anyone could stop him, he’d thrown the first punch. 

With a brewing black eye, a split lip and Alex’s never-ending apologies, Bobby had been suspended. He still wouldn’t let Alex take the blame, insisting that the younger boy had done nothing wrong.

_“You shouldn’t be forced to deal with them. You’re not at fault for them being homophobic assholes,”_ Bobby had said while Alex sat with him, holding an ice pack to the guitarist’s face.

“Reg, are you feeling okay?”

Reggie snapped back into the present, quickly plastering on his five-star smile, one that he had mastered over the years. “Hmm? Yeah, I’m good.”

Alex gave him a look that conveyed how entirely unconvinced he was, but he didn’t push it any further. Instead he pushed his notebook across the desk and tapped it with his pen.

“Can you help me with this?” Finally, something Reggie could do in his sleep. 

Alex’s parents wanted him to be a doctor. At least at the start of the year when they were signing up for classes. Nowadays they barely spoke to their son but he was still sitting in AP Calculus, trying to win back their affection by shaping himself back into the perfect son. 

The problem was that Alex wasn’t very good at maths. 

But Reggie was, and he was more than happy to help. In return, Alex would bring Reggie food after every free period. He was the only one in the band with both a paycheck and the self-restraint to make his money last more than a few days. 

“See? It’s really easy once you stop thinking about it so hard.” 

Alex just stared blankly at the page and the few lines of red ink from Reggie’s pen amongst his own blue scribbles. “Sure…” 

Offering Alex a supportive smile, Reggie returned to his own work. Not that he was processing anything. Instead, he just started writing down the questions on the board, solving them on autopilot. 

He continued to write, completely immersed in the sound of his pen against the paper, watching himself solve problems as if he were just a spectator. 

As Alex let out a frustrated groan, Reggie spared him a worried glance out the corner of his eye.

“Reggie,” Alex started, sounding nervous.

“Yeah?” Reggie asked, still writing. He assumed Alex needed more help, and he was always happy to give it. Until a soft _splat_ broke his focus. There was a small drop of blood on his paper, quickly followed by a second. 

“Your nose is bleeding.”

“I can see that.”

Alex was out of his seat and back with a wad of tissues he pressed to Reggie’s face before Reggie could even lift his head. 

“Thanks.”

“Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Reggie tilted when he stood up, gently pitching forward as black spots crept around the edges of his vision. Today was clearly not his day.

Alex quickly moved to hold him upright. “You good, Reg?”

“I- yeah. I just stood up too quickly.”

It was too hard to convince Alex, they’d been friends for far too long for Alex to take anything that came out of Reggie’s mouth without a bucket of salt, so he had an arm looped around Reggie’s ribcage and the other free to open doors.

Reggie was so out of it, too focused on staying upright to even hear when Alex spoke to their teacher. They were easily allowed to leave so Reggie probably looked as poorly as he felt. 

“Are you sure you’re not gonna faint?” Alex asked, adjusting his grip on Reggie. “I’m not ready for that kind of stress.”

“I’m fine.” 

“Okay...” Alex didn’t sound convinced as he pushed open the bathroom door with his shoulder, still towing Reggie along like a ragdoll. 

Alex situated Reggie against the wall, watching his friend warily, judging for any sign that the bassist was going to crumble. Satisfied that Reggie could stay upright for the time being, he turned away running a few tissues under the tap before turning back. 

“Tilt your head back,” Alex instructed, pulling the messy wad of tissues away from his friend’s face.

Reggie wasn’t contributing anything as Alex manhandled him. With an iron grip on Reggie’s jaw, Alex forced his head back. Reggie knew better than to try and fight off Alex’s worry once the drummer got that look in his eyes. 

“Aren’t I supposed to lean forward?”

“Your face is a mess.”

Reggie relented, he wasn’t going to win and it was much easier to let Alex baby him. 

Alex liked to pretend that he wasn’t always worrying, but it was pretty easy to see through. He always made sure that Reggie had lunch, even though he’d never admit to it, but no one else who knew the combination to Reggie’s locker would leave him food. If anything, Luke would steal it, and Bobby didn’t hover like Alex did.

And no one else would cup his head so gently to clean up a nosebleed. 

Alex locked eyes with Reggie, still busy dabbing at his face. His eyebrows were drawn together as he tried to decode something in Reggie’s expression. Maybe it was the light sheen of sweat on his face that was giving him away.

“You’re a little hot,” he finally said after a few long and painfully awkward seconds.

“Sorry, you’re not my type.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Not like that. I mean like, _fever_ hot.”

“I feel fine. You’re probably imagining it,” Reggie offered with a shrug. He knew it wasn’t going to convince Alex to drop it, but it was worth a try. 

Before Reggie could even move, Alex was pressing the back of his hand to Reggie’s forehead. 

“That’s definitely a fever.”

“I’m good, I swear. 

“I don’t know…” Alex had that suspicious motherly tone that Reggie loathed. “Maybe you should go home.”

There was a chill that ran through Reggie’s veins at the idea of going home early. His mother wasn’t working today and she wouldn’t be in a good mood after the fight he heard this morning. And there was nothing he hated more than missing band practice while his parents were in a bad mood. The band was his escape from that. “No-”

Alex’s gaze softened with unspoken understanding. Of all the members, he was the one who _got it._ “Or at least lie down in the nurse’s office.”

“‘Lex, I’m fine, I promise.”

Alex eyed him warily but didn’t push it any further. 

The drummer’s expression was drawn in concentration as he continued wiping the blood from Reggie’s face, before pressing a fresh wad of tissues to his nose. 

Reggie gratefully held the tissues in place, their presence muffling his voice as he spoke. “Do you want me to help you with the calc work after practice?”

“You’d really save my life like that?” 

“Anything for you.”

“Thank you, my parents have been on my case about my grades.”

“I don’t think you’ve gotten anything lower than an A since middle school. Aside from calculus,” he added hurriedly. 

Alex chuckled. It was dry and humourless. “I guess I’m not perfect enough for them anymore.”

“‘Lex…” Reggie started, his heart aching for his friend.

“It’s fine,” Alex plastered on what was quite literally the fakest smile Reggie had ever seen. “I just need to get my grades up.”

“You shouldn’t have to earn their love. You know that, right?”

“Maybe this way they can be proud of me.”

There was a weird quality to Alex’s voice, it was strained and pulled tight, refusing to waver, but Reggie could hear the emotions lying underneath it. The raw and ragged edges of his broken heart, if Reggie reached out to touch Alex, the shards would cut his skin.

“I’m proud of you. Always,” Reggie whispered, careful not to raise his voice too much, keeping the words a secret between the two of them.

Reggie looked up, locking eyes with Alex who was carefully fixing the mess that had become of the bassist’s hair. “‘Lex?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you not tell Luke about this? You know how he gets.”

“I won’t tell him if you promise to let me know, at any point, if you’re not feeling a hundred percent, ok?”

“I promise.”

👻

Luke was curled up on the couch when Alex and Reggie arrived. He had his guitar in his lap and was absently playing tunes while humming something.

"Luke!” Reggie cheered, “We missed you in calculus!”

Their lead vocalist looked up at that, his fingers freezing on the frets. "I don't take calculus."

"Well I still missed you."

"Thanks, Reggie."

“Where’s Bobby at?” Alex asked, walking up to Luke and plopping a paper bag in his lap. Like a starving animal, Luke ripped into the bag and shoved the donut in his mouth without even a hint of hesitation.

“Chew it, Patterson,” Alex chided, but Reggie could hear the smile in his voice without even having to see it. 

“He’s in the house,” Luke explained, swallowing what was perhaps the biggest bite of food ever taken. Reggie was surprised he didn’t start choking. “His mom insisted he make us healthy snacks so we don’t get scurvy.”

“If anyone’s getting scurvy, it’s you. When’s the last time you ate a vegetable?”

“What’s a vegetable?” Luke asked, innocently batting his eyes. 

Reggie could already sense Alex’s growing tension headache.

“After practice we’ll go somewhere to eat. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know you’ve eaten something with nutritional value.”

It was very easy to forget that Alex was the youngest of them. He was the only one still sixteen but acted like the rest of them were all toddlers running wild. He’d grown up far too quickly that one. Reggie had that thought too often.

Where Reggie, Bobby, and especially Luke, were living up to the epitome of “dumb teenage boy”, Alex was the one constantly doting on them and trying to keep them out of trouble. It obviously came with the territory of being the oldest child when he was at home, the younger sibling closest to his age being a whopping nine years old. 

He’d become a master princess party planner at twelve.

But then there was the elephant in the room every time Alex spoke to his parents. His sexuality. It had never bothered the band, and Alex knew that. Overjoyed that one of the football players at school had asked him out, Alex had excitedly told his mother, his smile shining like a thousand suns, only to collapse into the seemingly unending darkness of a black hole as a whirlwind of events lead to Alex standing on his front porch with a door slammed in his face and his backpack tossed onto the street with their son.

Eventually, Alex’s parents had let him come back. But something had changed in Alex after that night. 

Some nights Reggie couldn’t sleep because the image of Alex shaking, crying, and hyperventilating on the floor of the studio refused to leave his mind. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop worrying about that kid. 

Bobby returned with a plate of celery and hummus and Reggie had to stifle a laugh at the way Luke’s nose crinkled.

“That’s not food.”

“You can’t live off of potato chips and redbull, Luke,” Bobby stated, setting the plate on the coffee table and silently crossing the room to his guitar. Reggie was barely paying attention and almost missed the nod of Bobby’s head indicating that he wanted Reggie to join him. 

Reggie quickly followed after Bobby, eagerly reaching for his bass. It never felt heavy in his hands, instead a comforting weight that was meant to be there. Luke often joked about their instruments being extensions of their souls, he never meant it literally but it sure felt like the truth.

Alex and Luke joined them only moments later, Luke still licking donut glaze off of his fingers as he approached the microphone, guitar resting at his side. 

The music kicking up filled the atmosphere with energy, an electricity that Reggie could tap into that fuelled him to go hard and have fun, completely losing the heavy weight in his limbs and the ache in his body.

With the rush, he was weightless.

Music tended to do that, it always helped him to feel better and forget. Even when they ended up practicing late into the night, Reggie never minded, there was a freedom that came with his hands on his bass, like it was an extension of himself. 

Bobby even indulged him with a little groove session, shimmying his shoulders at the bassist as they both bounced on their feet. Turning to rock out with Alex for a moment, Reggie’s face cracked into a big smile. 

There was nothing better than being able to lose himself in the music, to share this time with the most important people in his life. Alex returned his smile over the drum kit. It was nice to see Alex smile, the sight felt far too rare lately.

They’d all been stressed lately, letting all of that tension go in a jam session was always what Reggie needed, and he could see that everyone else had needed it as much as he did. 

Reggie got too comfortable, too quickly. Of course playing with the band wasn’t a cure-all but it had been good enough. At least until a wave of dizziness rolled over Reggie.

He gripped his bass like a lifeline. 

His fingers slipped. Of course they did. The muscle memory wasn’t even enough to pull him through that portion of the song, it wasn’t even complicated but the flow of the song was turned on its head.

Luke turned away from the mic for a moment to look at Reggie with furrowed brows. Reggie couldn’t even muster up the energy to shoot his friend a smile or a nod to say “I’m okay.”

He wasn’t really, but Luke didn’t need to worry.

There was a weird skip in the rhythm of the drums behind him, probably Alex catching onto the mood but refusing to cut the song off in the middle. 

Luke tilted his head as Bobby took his solo and mouthed a quick _“you good?”_

He just met Luke’s gaze and felt himself stagger, his vision going white for a split second. 

When Reggie opened his eyes, it was clear that more time had passed than he thought. He was lying on his back, staring up at Alex's drawn expression. It took him a few seconds to realise that his head was in Alex’s lap as the drummer ran a hand through his hair.

"Hey…” he started, bringing a hand up to rub his head that now hurt tenfold what it had earlier.

"Good morning, Reg."

“Why didn’t you say anything, Reggie?” Luke asked. 

He only just remembered that the rest of the band were in the room at that point. Luke was kneeling next to him and fanning him, with what was unmistakably his sacred songwriting notebook, like he was a noble Victorian lady whose corset had been done up too tightly. 

Bobby knelt on his other side, his face clearly betraying his usual stoicity. Everything about him screamed worry. 

Guilt panged in Reggie’s chest. To him it’d been a blink and he was on the floor, but they’d all had to cut the music and scramble to his aid. Did he stagger? Did he just drop? 

It was the comfort of not knowing these things that meant that Reggie didn’t know why they were all looking at him like a sick puppy. 

“I’m fine,” Reggie mumbled, running a hand down his face. He felt like death, like an actual decomposing body.

“Reg, you passed out. You’re _not_ fine,” Alex chided, but his hand was still running through Reggie’s hair, a steading rhythm that eased Reggie’s anxiety. 

“Yeah you just dropped.” Luke took a shaky breath before continuing, “Busted a string on your bass when you went down.”

“What?” Reggie shot straight up at that, almost smacking his head on Alex’s. True to Luke’s words, his bass was by his side and one of the strings definitely didn’t survive the fall. “Aw man, those were expensive strings.”

“I’ll get you a new string tomorrow, but I really think you should go home and get some rest,” Alex said.

“Hey, no, we have to practice-” Reggie started before he was swept up in dizziness yet again. Clearly his poker face needed work since Luke quickly placed a hand on his shoulder to hold him steady.

Bobby was the next to tell him how unlikely it was that they’d let him stand up, let alone play. “You’re done.” 

“Yeah, Reg. I think we should call your mom to pick you up,” Luke said, his eyes anxiously sweeping over Reggie every few seconds, as if he was waiting for any sign that he was going to drop again.

“Don’t call her,” Reggie whined, burying his face in his hands.

Alex’s voice was soft from behind him. “Did they fight again?” 

“Yeah.”

“Last night?” Alex asked, bringing a hand up to pat Reggie’s shoulder.

“This morning.”

“You can stay here with me tonight if you don’t want to go home,” Luke offered quickly, his face lit up with excitement at the idea of spending the night with one of his best friends.

Bobby rolled his eyes, chuckling as he did so. "My parents are gonna start thinking I run a boarding house for wayward teens."

"Sounds legit."

“I’ll drive you home, Reg,” Alex quickly offered. It was barely an offer, Reggie knew there was no room to argue. 

“Luke, help me grab some blankets from inside. I think Reggie could do with a nap before he has to go home,” Bobby explained, already dragging Luke by the hand towards the studio door.

Alex took the opportunity to wrap his arms around Reggie and pull him into the drummer’s chest. Reggie could feel Alex’s breath against his skin, the younger boy having buried his face in the crook of Reggie’s neck.

“You promised you’d tell me if you didn’t feel well,” Alex mumbled into Reggie’s shirt.

“I swear, I felt fine until like two seconds before I fainted.”

It was a pitiful excuse, however true it may be. There weren’t enough apologies in the world to make up for it. Reggie knew it just like he knew the weight of his bass in his hands, they would never harbour any ill feelings towards him, especially for this. 

After enough screaming matches between his parents ignited by Reggie not feeling well or not being able to do something on his own, had led Reggie down this winding path of insisting on doing everything himself, not asking for help, and absolutely never telling anyone when something was wrong.

But also, he knew how worried he would feel if anything happened to his bandmates. Every time Luke ran out on his parents, or when Alex had a panic attack and Reggie was helpless to calm him down, even when Bobby was more withdrawn and unwilling to return his smile. He always worried about them, because he loved them. 

“You scared us,” Alex confessed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Alex hummed and ran his hand along Reggie’s arm in a comforting gesture. It was their thing, the simple act of touching each other was enough to remind them that they were safe, that they were loved. It often led to them sleeping in a pile in the loft, much like the night Luke ran away from home. Everyone being there to hold him was the only thing that could ease the severity of his sobs.

“It’s not your fault. But you’re going to take a nap now then I’ll take you home to rest. If you can’t stay home tomorrow, come here after school and we’ll just do some writing or homework while you sleep.”

“What? I’m fine-”

“You’re not well, Reg. You need to take it easy. Let us take care of you.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Reggie objected.

“That’s what family is for.”

So that was the name of the feeling he got when Alex held him with so much love and care. He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> title: anson seabra - hindenburg lover
> 
> [tumblr](http://sunsetcxrve.tumblr.com/)


End file.
